“The weather turns on a dime. I’d be scraping ice off my windshield in the morning and wearing a tank top by the afternoon. It’s beautiful.” I looked out the window, watching the overcast sky fly by overhead. “The people are nice, but very serious about their food.”
He chuckled, but I gave him a serious look. “Don’t get in the way of an Iowan and anything that involves corn, has been fried, or involves a scotcheroo. Just some tips for survival if you ever visit.”
He eyed me with a playful twinkle in his eye. “Scotcheroo?”
“Only the best dessert known to man.” I retorted. “Peanut butter, Rice Krispies, and chocolate.”
“Sounds good. Though I have to admit, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth,” he shared, as though he was divulging some deep dark secret.
“Might as well turn this car around then, this will never work.” I sighed dramatically.
He pulled off the freeway, and I assumed we were getting close to the trailhead. “I would think that would mean we’d work perfectly. All the more for you,” he pointed out with a grin.
“You have a point,” I mused. “Are we here?”
“Just about.” He pulled into a parking lot. “Doesn’t look like there are many people here today, good,” he commented as he killed the engine.
“Does it get crowded?” I asked, hopping out of the passenger seat and shutting the door.
“It can.” He let a very excited Able out of the back. “Are you going to let him off leash?” he asked as he strapped a backpack on his back.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’ll only leash him if there are problematic dogs around. He’ll stay close.”
We walked side by side toward the path with Able bounding ahead.
“Did you grow up in the area?” I asked curiously.
“Nearby. Then I enlisted, toured the world, but ultimately ended up coming back. It was a central location for my business, and Sam was here. I didn’t want to be too far from her.”
“What a good big brother.” I smiled warmly.
I could have sworn he blushed under his ball cap. “Yeah well, I have a lot to make up for. I should have been there more for her growing up.”
I knew the feeling of sibling guilt all too well. “I’m sure you did your best. It’s all any of us can do.”
“You’re speaking from experience.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yep.” I nodded, admiring the hills surrounding us as we crested a small rise. “When you have shitty parents, being a sibling takes on a whole new meaning.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
I looked over at him and felt the connection that had been building between us grow that much stronger. I offered an easy smile, feeling lighter than I had in a long time for having shared something so simple and yet so foundational to who I was.
Able loped off into the trees, and I grimaced at seeing him return with muddy paws.
Travis chuckled. “Someone’s getting a bath later.”
“Oh God, giving him a bath is a nightmare.” I groaned. “It’s like every commercial for detergent or paper towels on steroids.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound ricocheting off the canyon.
I shot him a droll look. “You think it’s funny because it won’t be you covered in mud and dealing with a wet dog who needs constant comfort since he’s afraid ofwater.” I sent Able an incredulous look, still surprised that my dog became a shivering, whining wuss anytime the faucet turned on.
Travis grinned. “Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll stick around and help.”
I looked down at the ground, grinning at my feet—all too excited by the idea of spending more time with him.
When the observatory came into view, I stared in awe at the iconic building jetting toward the gray sky.
